


Calcio University

by bluemadridista



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it might have been like if nearly the entire Spanish national team and loads of other sexy footballers all went to university together... and all happened to be gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a multi-chapter fic with the number of chapters undetermined at the moment. I will try to update as often as possible, but for now this first chapter is all I have written. Enjoy xo
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of these guys, but I wish I did. None of this is true, but we all wish it was. Don't lie, you know you do! ;)

“I wish we were still in London,” Fernando groaned. He walked hand-in-hand with his small boyfriend. Their first lessons at University would begin in a couple of days. Today was moving day. Both boys were displeased with the fact that the housing office had separated them. When they were made aware that roommates were chosen at random and they’d drawn the wrong straws, so to speak, they had tried to get single rooms that they planned to share, but neither boy could afford it, even before they spent some of their savings to have a summer vacation in London before school began.

“Me too, baby, but being home feels good, doesn’t it?” Juan’s voice was sweet and cajoling. He knew Fernando would need a lot of comfort. He didn’t do well with new things, change. He had been so nervous that he could barely enjoy their last night in London. He felt like he should hug his boyfriend, but they each held the handles of large rolling suitcases in their other hands.

Fernando sighed deeply. “This isn’t home, Juanin. This is University.”

Juan stopped walking, nearly tipping his suitcase in the process. “Nando, everything will be okay. You’re great at school. You’ll do fine.”

Fernando wasn’t worried about his studies and he knew Juan knew that. He was worried about meeting his roommate, meeting other new people. Studying, he was good at. Getting up early for classes after staying up late cramming, he was good at. Making friends, being around new groups of people, being without Juan in a strange new place, he was not so good at.

Fernando was relieved when Juan wrapped his tiny arms around him. His head on his chest felt familiar, good, perfect. He sighed and held him, scratching his fingertips into his curly hair.

“I’ll be close,” Juan whispered. “If you need me, just call.” Juan often found it funny that from an outsider’s perspective, he might look like the one that needed comfort and protection in the relationship, but he found that he was usually the one providing it to his bigger, but more sensitive partner – not that he minded that one bit.

“I love you,” Fernando said into his hair. It smelled like the fruity shampoo Fernando bought for him at a little boutique before they left London.

“I love you too,” Juan replied, smiling happily despite the fact that Fernando could not see his face.

~~~~~

Sergio sat on the bed in his new dorm room. He’d chosen the one closest to the bathroom and furthest from the wall adjacent to the next room. He didn’t want the guys next door waking him up in the morning with the noise from who-knows-what. He had his best friend since childhood – a tiny, frail boy with jet black hair and bright blue eyes – on his lap. Jesus had followed Sergio to university, because he didn’t know what to do without him. He had always been skittish. He even suffered from panic attacks. Sergio was the only one who could always calm him down. He had suffered a panic attack when he and Sergio discovered they would not be rooming together, not even on the same floor. “I’m sorry we’re not rooming together, but your little roommate seemed really nice.”

Before they’d gone to his room to be alone, Sergio had taken Jesus to his own room one floor below his to meet his new roommate – a small boy called David. The boy was Canarian and it showed in the way he was slightly awkward being in the city. He confessed to both of the boys that he had lived a pretty sheltered life in a small village on the island. He already missed his family, and he was intimidated by the prospect of meeting new people. Sergio assumed this would suit Jesus fine. The boys could bond over their shared awkwardness.

Jesus sniffed and nuzzled his face against Sergio’s neck. “Silva was nice,” he muttered. “But he’s not you. I need you.”

Sergio caressed his hair and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll be here. If you need me, call me. You know I’ll come to you as soon as I can. Or just come up here to my room. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“What if your roommate doesn’t like me and he doesn’t want me to come here?”

Sergio shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care what my roommate thinks.”

Right on cue, Sergio’s future roommate knocked on the door. A moment later, he poked his head in, speaking as he came, “Can I…?” He stopped when his eyes landed on the two boys. “Se – Sergio?”

Fernando recognized his ex-boyfriend right off though his hair was shorter than it had been the last time he saw him – much shorter, in fact.

Sergio practically pushed Jesus off his lap, so he could jump up and cross the room to Fernando. It had been years since he had seen him. They met when Sergio (and Jesus) enrolled in a Madrid boarding school. When he’d gone back home to Sevilla to finish Grades 11 and 12, he and Fernando were separated, but they were over before then. When a tiny little Asturian moved to town and started spending a lot of time with Fernando, Sergio got jealous and Fernando got… angry.

Sergio grabbed Fernando and hugged him tightly. “Nando… I missed you.”

Fernando stood frigidly still. “Sergio… I, uh…” He gently disentangled himself from Sergio’s strong limbs. “Is this your room?” He asked with the hope that it belonged to Jesus. He had always liked the boy.

“Yeah, yes, it is… Is… are you my…?”

“Roommate,” Juan finished, nudging Fernando to the left to stand by his side, putting space between him and his ex-boyfriend. “Yeah, he’s your roommate.”

Sergio backed off. “And still your boyfriend, I’m guessing?”

“Yes, still my boyfriend.” Juan was small, much smaller than Sergio, but he looked ferocious at that moment. His face was flat, but his eyes were full of fire. He and Fernando had started out as innocent friends. Only when Sergio had run Fernando off with his jealous tantrums had anything else started between them.

Fernando half-smiled at his little guard dog of a boyfriend. He laid his arm over Juan’s narrow shoulders and pulled him close. “Sergio, we’ll be roommates and that’s all, okay?” Fernando wanted to add that if it was possible, he would have switched rooms, but the rooming advisor had already warned him and Juan that no changes would be made to rooming arrangements.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don’t worry. I understand. That’s your bed over there and your dresser. Keep your crap over there, will you?” Sergio walked back to Jesus and grabbed his hand, dragging him up. “Let’s go get some lunch.”

Juan and Fernando watched silently as the other boys left the room. When they were alone, Juan hugged Fernando. He didn’t like this at all.

“Don’t worry, Juan. I’m doing that enough for the both of us…”

Juan half-smiled. “You should stop worrying too. We’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course, we will. Nothing is going to happen. Maybe you should go meet your roommate now. Do you want me to come with you?

~~~~~

As he put his things away in the dresser he had chosen, Villa wondered what his roommate would be like. He didn’t want someone too chatty. That would be annoying, but he didn’t want some shy quiet one either. That would also be annoying. A cocky asshole or someone with too much attitude would be bad too. Villa groaned. He should have taken the money his father offered, so he could get a private room. He wouldn’t have to deal with any assholes. But no… he had to work for his tuition.

He was placing his last pair of boxers in the top drawer of the bureau when his roommate knocked on the door and walked into the room. “Hello,” Villa said, closing the drawer and then turning to face him. “My name’s David.” He offered his hand to his new roommate. Cute, he noticed… very cute, great eyes. He shook Juan’s hand, and added, “But everyone calls me Villa.”

Juan smiled. “My name is Juan, but, well people call me many things.”

“Do they?”

With a nod, Juan said, “Some of my friends call me Mata or Matita…” Juan suddenly became aware that Villa was still holding his hand after the shaking had ended. He slowly disentangled his hand and said, “My boyfriend calls me Juanin sometimes.”

Boyfriend. Of course he has a boyfriend. “I like Matita,” Villa offered with a friendly smile which Juan promptly returned. “Where you from, Matita?”

Juan pulled his suitcase to the bureau opposite the one Villa had been standing by when he walked into the room. “Madrid. I moved there when I was in high school.” Juan placed his bag on the small bed that would belong to him and unzipped it.

Villa chose to sit on his own bed rather than hover near his new roommate. “Ah, where did you live before that then? I moved here from Barcelona, but I’m from Asturias originally.”

Juan quickly turned to face him, the softly friendly smile on his face replaced by a wide grin. “Really? Me too!”

Villa grinned to match him. “No, really? My family is from Tuilla. Yours?”

“Oviedo.”

“Practically neighbors!”

“Yeah! Weird that they roomed us together.”

“Kinda nice though. I’m new here; don’t know anyone.” And you don’t seem like an annoying asshole, Villa added silently.

“My boyfriend is all I have and we couldn’t get a room to share.”

Villa nodded and nudged him with his elbow. “Well, I’ll take care of you,” he said with a friendly smile.

~~~~~~

“I’ll take care of you, Cescky,” Gerard said, ruffling his friend’s hair.

“Stop it, Geri!” Cesc whined as he smoothed his hair out. “I don’t need you to take care of me, you know?”

Cesc and Gerard had known each other since they were young children. Nearly since the day they met, Gerard had been watching over Cesc, protecting him from bullies and sometimes from himself, his own sensitive nature. Now that they were at university, Cesc wanted to see if he could take care of himself. He loved Gerard, always had, but he wanted Gerard to see him as an equal now, not a young, sensitive kid that needed someone to watch over them.

“Oh, come on…” Gerard played with his ear a little, the way he always did, the way that drove Cesc crazy. “You know you need me to look out for you, dwarf.”

“I’m not a dwarf. I’m not even that short anymore, Geri. You’re just freakishly tall. And I’ll be fine. Why do you think I didn’t want us to share a room? I don’t need your protection.”

Gerard was slightly offended by his best friend’s attitude. “Fine… I’ll go then. Good luck finding your room and your new roommate.” Gerard walked away without giving Cesc the chance to say anything more. He didn’t really want to leave him, but he assumed that was what Cesc wanted.

Cesc sighed and walked off. He and Gerard were on opposite ends of the housing building and two floors apart. Cesc told himself he was glad that they would have some space, but as he was walking toward his new room, his stomach felt uneasy.

~~~~~~

Gerard roughly opened the door to his room, and slammed it behind him. His new roommate was nowhere in sight, and truthfully he would not have cared if the boy had been standing right in front of him. The walk to his room on the third floor had given him time to think about his interaction with Cesc. He was more hurt by the smaller boy’s words than he would have thought he’d be. He loved Cesc. He was his best friend, and sometimes he wondered if they could be more. Why would Cesc be so harsh with him? Was taking care of him and watching over him really such a bad thing?

“What’s going on?” A tiny boy that looked more like he belonged in high school than university skittered out of the bathroom, clutching his bare chest.

Gerard salivated at the sight of him. He might have had a baby face and a small frame, but the small frame was muscle bound. Gerard let his eyes roam over the chiseled muscles that defined his chest, arms, and the strong thighs that were visible below his boxer shorts.

“Already taking advantage of the shower?” Gerard asked, ignoring the boy’s question.

The younger boy’s cheeks burned red. “Yeah, sorry. I just, uh, I had a long flight in from Italy.”

Gerard quirked his brow. “You’re Italian?”

He giggled and shook his head. “Spanish and Serbian. My name is Bojan. I guess you’re my roommate.”

Gerard smiled to match Bojan’s wide, friendly smile. “Guess so… I’m Gerard… Pique.”

“Bojan Krkic Perez.” Bojan extended his hand and Gerard quickly shook it.

~~~~~~ 

Cesc backed into his new room, pulling his rolling suitcase alone. He tripped over a bag and started to fall backward. He cried out, but choked on the sound when a pair of strong arms caught him under his arms and stood him up. The body the arms belonged to pressed against him from behind. “You okay, kid?”

“Yes, okay, and not a kid,” Cesc said, wiggling out of the hold. “I’m as old as you are.”

“I doubt that. I’m almost twenty-one. How old are you?”

Cesc blushed. He was glad the other boy couldn’t see his face. “Eighteen.”

“That’s what I thought,” the other boy said with a chuckle.

Cesc frowned and started to brush the wrinkles out of his shirt. “Great,” he thought. “My new roommate is an asshole that thinks he’s better than me, because I’m a first year.”

When he turned, all of the negative thoughts vanished. His new roommate was gorgeous and he had a sweet smile on his face. “You okay?”

Cesc nodded and smiled awkwardly. “I- I’m okay, thanks. Sorry for um…”

Iker interrupted, waving him off. “No, no. It was my fault for leaving my bag in the doorway. I’m Iker, by the way. Last year, I had a private room. Guess I’m not accustomed to moving my stuff, so the poor guy that comes in after me doesn’t trip over them.” He grinned sheepishly and offered his hand to Cesc.

“Cesc,” he said, taking his hand and shaking it. “No worries… I probably shouldn’t have backed into the room.”

Iker laughed. “Fair enough.” He gave Cesc’s hand a light squeeze before he dropped it. “Where you from, Cesc?”

“Barcelona.”

“Oh…” Iker frowned. “Madrid.” He pointed to himself.

“Guess we’re rivals then.”

“Don’t have to be,” Iker said, winking.

~~~~~~

Moving away from France had not been Eden’s idea. It was his father’s idea and he was none too pleased. He liked France, quite a lot in fact. It suited him well. He spoke the language fluently and he knew a lot of people. A lot of boy, he should say. A lot of gorgeous French boys that liked to do a lot of kissing in the city of love.

Now he was stuck in the city of… nothing? He didn’t even know what city he had been dumped in by his father’s private jet… something with a ridiculous Spanish name he couldn’t pronounce outside Madrid.

He groaned when he pushed open the door to the dormitory. This was going to be awful, a nightmare. He was going to have some annoying (and probably unattractive) Spanish roommate that only spoke Spanish – at the speed of light too. He would never understand a word.

He watched the numbers on the doors as he trudged down the hall on the first floor, dragging a large rolling case behind him. When he finally found his, he stopped and dug his key out of his pocket. He gave one last groan, muttered a curse about his father and the situation he had put him in, and entered the room.

He found his roommate on his bed with a laptop on his lap. His first thought: internet porn. Could this day get any worse?

The other boy quickly removed his headphones and gave him a smile. Eden smiled in spite of all of the horrible thoughts racing through his mind. He couldn’t help smiling. The boy’s wide grin was infectious. The boy’s entire face was… stunning. Eden’s stomach twisted. He was suddenly nervous. He had been so negative about his move that he had built up his roommate in his mind to be this horrid person – inside and out, but it seemed now he was quite pleasing on the outside and possibly just a bit of a pervert on the inside.

Eden started to introduce himself. He had learned all the words in Spanish on the plane ride over. He had gone over it a million times, repeating along with the lessons on his iPhone. However, his nervousness sent a French introduction flying out of his mouth. His cheeks blushed crimson as soon as he spilled the words out. He wracked his brain to remember the Spanish words for, “I’m sorry,” but his roommate spoke before he could get it.

“You speak French?” he asked in Eden’s beloved language.

Eden’s heart fluttered. The boy stood from his bed, moving his laptop aside. Eden still couldn’t see the screen. He shamefully glanced quickly at the boy’s crotch. No sign of, er, “excitement.” Maybe he hadn’t just interrupted his new roommate watching porn?

“Are you French?”

Eden jumped when the boy spoke again. He realized he’d just been staring at him, lost in thought. “Uh, no. Belgian. I moved here from Paris. Are you? French, I mean?”

He shook his head. “Spanish. My name is Cesar… Azpilicueta. And you are?”

“Eden… Hazard.” Eden offered his hand like he had been taught to do at the age of four. “It is nice to meet you.” He had been taught that little nicety as soon as he could talk.

“Pleasure is mine,” Cesar replied.

“Is it?” Eden asked, flicking his eyes to Cesar’s laptop. He silently scolded himself for that. What an idiot. Who cares if he was watching porn? At least he wasn’t…

“… Getting off.”

“Huh? What?” Eden glanced back to his roommate. He had missed something, hadn’t he? Surely, he had…

“I was just getting off,” Cesar repeated.

Eden’s eyes were the size of plates. Getting off as in…? “You were?”

Cesar narrowed his eyes. “When you walked in, I was on my laptop… I was Skyping with my mom. She’s back in France. I just moved from there recently too. Well, last year. She worries, wanted to know how I’m settling in. I tried to tell her the first year is the tough one, second year is easy.” Cesar laughed. “You a first year?”

Eden groaned and nodded. “It is such a pain. You’re awfully nice though. You won’t see me Skyping my parents today. I’m too tired for that.”

Cesar laughed again. Eden smiled. He had a great laugh and a great smile and great eyes and lips and… Eden looked away when he realized he was staring again.

“I was going to head out for a bite to eat. Would you like to join me or you headed straight to bed?”

Eden’s initial plan had been to go straight to bed, but now he found he was suddenly hungry.

~~~~~~

David Luiz was walking through the courtyard en route to his dormitory – the same he’d been in last year – when he could have sworn he heard his native language. A smile spread over his face. It had been too long since he heard someone speaking Portuguese with a Brazilian accent. The poor kid speaking seemed to be lost, struggling to ask a Spanish guy directions in Portuguese and broken Spanish. David walked to the left, following the sound of the voice. He rounded a corner and found a thin, but moderately tall boy talking to a shorter, stocky guy with jet black hair and thick eyebrows. The stocky one looked familiar. Who could forget a set of eyebrows like that?

“Excuse me,” David said in Portuguese. “Do you need help?” He directed his question to the small, nervous-looking boy, and waved off the other guy who happily shrugged his shoulders and went on his merry way. “I’m David Luiz. Can I help you?”

The kid was smiling happily, appreciatively now. “Oscar. My Spanish is terrible and I’m lost.”

David chuckled. “My Spanish is terrible too. Luckily most people around here speak English pretty well.”

“My English is terrible too,” Oscar admitted.

David laughed a little louder and clapped him on the shoulder. “Time to invest in some Rosetta Stone, buddy. I’ve been here a year and you’re the only guy I know that speaks Brazilian Portuguese. There is one Portuguese guy in my dorm, but he can be a bit… well, he’s a model, if that tells you anything.”

Oscar blushed and smiled at the ground. Oscar was from a small town in Brazil. What David had said didn’t really tell him anything. What did male models act like? He had no idea, but he nodded anyway.

“You need help finding the dorm?” David asked.

Oscar nodded again. “I got turned around.” He motioned with his hand, twirling it in a circle. “I never came for a tour or anything.”

“It can be confusing the first day. After a while, you’ll have no problem.” David patted his shoulder and slid his hand to the middle of Oscar’s back and guided him toward the building.

~~~~~~

“Look… I’m a third year. I paid the last two years for a private room. The one year I can’t pay and you guys want to stick me with some first year!” Alvaro wasn’t a jerk. He didn’t hate all the first years, but they could be annoying – loud, hyper, talkative, weirdly stressed out over deadlines and due dates and school in general. He was annoying as a first year and he knew it. He didn’t want to room with his first year self.

“Mr. Arbeloa, I have explained to you several times that we have no rooms available and we’re not switching. The semester is about to begin. You’ll have to deal with your first year. You were a first year once too. Remember that when you think about giving your new roommate a hard time.”

“That’s what I can’t forget,” Alvaro thought. Knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with this, he bid the secretary adieu and trudged back to his dorm room. With any luck his new roommate dropped out or would at least show up late, so he would have some peace.

 

Jose “Calle” Callejon was small for his age, small for any age really. Throughout his school career, he had been teased and tormented by the other students for being small. When he learned that he would be sharing a room at the University as there were no private rooms available when he submitted his late application for residency, he assumed whatever roommate he got would be the same.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door to his room and found it empty. There were signs of a roommate’s presence – cologne on the top of one dresser, a gym bag on the bed adjacent to the dresser, and a poster of Real Madrid’s current captain on the wall. Calle smiled at that. He was a big fan of Real Madrid as well. Maybe the roommate wouldn’t be so bad after all. At least they would have one thing in common. Perhaps they could talk and bond over that before the roommate had a chance to start hating him for reasons unknown. As long as he wasn’t attractive… If he was attractive, things could get awkward…

Jose looked around the room a little though their wasn’t much to see – his bed and dresser, a closet to share, the small bathroom, and a small window that overlooked a nice grassy area between the residential buildings. He was gazing out, watching two attractive boys laugh and eat lunch together. One was tall with a wide smile; the other quite short with a nice bum. Taking notice to that was what prompted Calle to turn away. He had been staring at the poor guys too long. It was officially invasion of privacy… and creepy.

He started to unpack his things when the door to the room opened. His heart sped up. He knew he should turn around. He should greet his new roommate. It was the polite thing to do, but his feet seemed to be rooted to the floor. He couldn’t move.

“Well, he’s a tiny one,” Alvaro thought, checking out the back of his new first year roommate. No telling if he was annoying yet. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, waiting for the small guy to turn around or move at all.

Calle turned slowly and said, “hello.”

“Hey… you’re Jose?” Alvaro walked toward him with his hand outstretched.

Calle’s heart pounded in his chest. His roommate wasn’t just attractive. He was very attractive. He had perfectly chiseled facial features, beautiful black hair, chocolate eyes… and he was tall. Calle loved tall guys.

Suddenly, his new roommate had his hand on Calle’s shoulder, gently shaking him. His cheeks reddened when he realized he had been so busy staring at the other man that he had missed a question – or several questions – that he had asked.

“You alright, kid?” Alvaro had a look of concern in his chocolate eyes that made Calle want to melt.

He nodded stupidly and Alvaro removed his hand. “I’m Alvaro… You must be Jose, right?”

Another stupid nod. “Jose C – Callejon, but you can call me Calle.”

“Calle, huh?” Alvaro was having a difficult time assessing whether or not this kid would be an annoyance to him. His mind was too distracted by his new roommates face. He was instantly attracted to him.

“Yeah, because…”

Alvaro laughed and interrupted. “Yeah, I get it… I like it.” Alvaro took a seat on Calle’s bed. “So, where you from?”

“Well… my family is from down south originally, but I’ve lived in Madrid most of my life. That’s why I chose this school. It’s close to home.” C alle was amazed at how those words tumbled past his lips. He had been nervous to the point of stuttering only moments ago, but Alvaro was speaking softly and putting him at ease.

Calle didn’t ask for the information, but Alvaro took it upon himself to supply his own residential history. “My family is from the Northwest, but I lived in Madrid for a while too.” He smiled at his young roommate. He found himself wondering if they’d ever passed each other on the street or been in the same line at the coffeehouse. “Before that I lived in Liverpool though.”

Calle’s eyes widened and brightened. He sat next to Alvaro on his bed. “I’ve always wanted to visit England. Is it nice in Liverpool?”

 

“I’m so glad you finally left Liverpool…” Xabi gasped out the words as he struggled to pull his boyfriend’s shirt off and kiss his mouth at the same time.

Stevie laughed and forced Xabi to stop kissing him, so the shirt would finally be off. “Well, me heart couldn’t take anymore beggin’ from ye.”

Xabi and Stevie had met in 2004 when Xabi moved England to go to boarding school. They were only thirteen years old when they met, but they were old enough to know they were attracted to one another. A year later they were old enough to know they wanted to be together. They were boyfriends (in secret) all through high school. Then Xabi got accepted at the University in Spain; Stevie Liverpool U. The distance threatened to tear them apart, but they stayed strong, spending their short breaks Skyping and long ones commuting to one another. Xabi begged Stevie to come join him in Spain for years – four of them – and until recently Stevie had refused. Liverpool had always been his home. His family was there. Somehow after nine years, Xabi ranked higher than all that.

Xabi’s shirt fell to the floor with Stevie’s. Stevie’s head dipped quickly and his mouth encircled Xabi’s right nipple. “Steven! Dios!” Xabi exclaimed, shocked by the sudden movement.

Stevie swirled his tongue around the little nub and then bit down on it. His hands were stationed at Xabi’s hips, his thumbs digging into his hipbones. He assaulted his nipple until it was red and then kissed his way back to his beloved’s mouth. He kissed him and muttered, “I missed ye, Xabier.”

Xabi gripped his neck with both hands and pulled him closer, kissing him harder, deeper. He pulled away for air long enough to blurt, “I missed you too,” and then went right back to kissing him.

Stevie blindly felt for Xabi’s belt and unbuckled it while their mouths stayed connected. As soon as he could get his pants unbuttoned, his hand was diving inside his pants.

Xabi moaned and hopped backward a little, forcing Stevie to remove his hand. Stevie had a cheeky grin on his face. “You are certainly in a rush,” Xabi said.

“I want to make our first day at university together perfect…” Stevie dropped his own pants and kicked them off along with his shoes. “Come, me love, let’s test out this extra bed university housing was kind enough to give us.” Stevie dragged Xabi over to the bed that was supposed to belong to one of them, but would mostly go unused as they would be sharing a bed.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Steven,” Xabi pulled his face down and kiss his lips. “This is going to be a great year.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses on Cristiano and Mesut's arrivals at the university. It also features Gotze/Reus, Kaka, and Shevchenko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, but the ideas.
> 
> I apologize for the long wait, and I hope you all enjoy this second chapter! Thank you to everyone who commented on the first, and for all the relentless messages begging me to update.

Chapter Two

When his limousine drove slowly down the lane that led to the dormitory, Cristiano watched the students walking the sidewalks stop and look. He smirked. They had all come the day before on the official move-in day. Arriving on the first day with your parent’s SUV stuffed with your belongings was for peasants. He always sent his things to be moved into his large private suite, and then came a day or two later with nothing more than a small bag packed with necessities (hair gel, moisturizer, protein shakes, and his beloved electronics).

Cristiano was a third year student at the university. When he had come for the first day of his first year, he had no trace of an arrogant thought in his mind. He showed up in a chauffeur driven limousine, because that was how his family always traveled. His stepfather was with the Portuguese government. They couldn’t travel any other way. Back in Portugal, Cristiano had been bullied, because of his family’s affluence. When the students in Spain all seemed to revere him for it, he used that to his advantage. Being seen as an arrogant jerk was better than getting beaten up behind the school building after class, so he let them believe what they wanted. He had a few close friends that knew the truth. Everyone else was irrelevant.

When the limousine came to a stop in front of his dormitory, Cristiano sucked in a deep breath and held it for a few second before exhaling in a great sigh. The driver opened the door for him a few moments later, and he climbed out with his patented smirk in place to greet the students milling around his car. He slid his sunglasses on and flashed his pearly whites at a couple of girls giggling and pointing at him. “Hello, ladies,” he said in the accent that sent them into a fit of red-faced giggling.

Cristiano groaned internally, and hiked his bag up on his arm. The smirk never left his face as he made the short walk to the door. Once inside, he let it fall as he walked to his room. The hallways seemed to be deserted. That is why he preferred to come around lunch time. Everyone was out getting food. There was no one to bother him once he got past the few gawkers outside.

 

Mesut hoped to go unnoticed as he walked up the road toward the dormitory buildings. Luckily for him, some jerk in a limousine distracted everyone long enough for him to slip into one of the building unnoticed. Being stealthy had become quite a talent for him.

 

Cristiano took the keycard from his wallet and swiped it on the keypad next to his door. That was the first step in his security system. Then he was required to type in a special four digit code of his choosing. His was the birth year of his first boyfriend – the only guy he had ever truly loved. Upon entering the room, he surveyed everything as he always did. He had the largest room on the grounds. His parents paid extra to ensure that.

On the right side of his room sat his full size bed and a corner desk. Several trophies from his youth football years sat atop the desk. His sofa sat in the center of the room facing a large flat screen television that hung on the wall. Below the television, there was a sleek entertainment center packed with Blu-Ray discs and video games for use in his brand new systems. On either side of the television were two doors. The one on the right led to his walk-in closet; the other his en-suite bathroom, complete with a large tub and shower.

The dorm room was far from home, but it was good as he could ask for. He set his bag on the sofa and walked into the closet. The movers had arranged all of his clothing by color, as he had asked. His final stop was the bathroom. His extra hair products and toiletries were stocked neatly in the medicine cabinet and the closet was packed with only the best bath sheets and wash cloths. The bathroom was even decorated in his favorite colors – royal purple, gold, and black.

Cristiano wore a genuine smile when he walked back into his bedroom. It was good to be back at school. He loved being home with his mother, but his relationship with his stepfather had always been strained. He felt at ease being alone in his room again. He lounged on his couch and pulled his phone from his pocket. The time on the lock screen read: 15:00. If he recalled the time difference correctly, it was eleven in Brazil. Ricky would be finished with the morning chores he did for his mother by now, and he might be able to catch him before he went out to play football with his cousins.

He opened his ongoing text conversation with the Brazilian. The last message was from Ricky the night before.

 **From Ricky:** I miss you too, but this was for the best.

Cristiano sighed. He had met Ricardo Leite when his family moved in a few blocks over from Cristiano’s five years previously. Cristiano gave Ricardo a ride home when his bike got a flat tire during a rainstorm. They had an instant connection. From that night forward, Ricardo became “Ricky” – Cristiano’s Ricky. Ricky called him Crissy. They dated in secret for three years. Ricky’s family were devout Catholics, and could never know he was gay. When Cristiano was accepted at the university in Spain, Ricky knew he couldn’t follow him. His parents wanted him to go to a university in Brazil.

The night before they were set to part, they made love for the first time. Ricky had told Cristiano that he always thought he would wait for marriage to go all the way. Cristiano had been fine with that. He never pressured him, but he sure wasn’t going to stop him when Ricky told him he wanted to have him before they might never see each other again. Unfortunately in their haste, they had forgotten to take the proper precautions like locking Cristiano’s bedroom door. Cristiano’s stepfather found them naked together, and claimed it was his duty to inform Ricky’s parents. His parents forbade Ricky to ever see Cristiano again.

Cristiano hadn’t seen Ricky in years, but they kept in touch via text, and the occasional call. He was still very much in love with him. He wasn’t sure he would ever love anyone again. He had tried to get Ricky to leave his parents and apply to the university to be with him. After two years, Ricky finally agreed, but the university would not accept his credits from Brazil. He had texted Cristiano the day before to tell him. He thought it was just as well, because he wouldn’t have to disobey his parents now. Cristiano couldn’t agree.

He tapped the screen to send a new text to Ricky.

 **To Ricky** : Hey. You got a minute to talk? I just got to university.

 

Ricky was sitting on the lap of his European History tutor when his phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans. The older boy’s mouth made a popping sound when it left his neck. Ricky groaned. “Sorry,” he gasped, pulling the phone from his pocket.

“Is it your ex again?” Sheva asked.

Ricky unlocked his phone and accessed the message. “Yes,” he confirmed with a nod. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“When are you going to tell him you’ve moved on, Ric?”

Ricky sent Cristiano a quick message to tell him he was busy, and tossed the phone onto his bag on the floor. He had met Sheva the last semester of his second year at University. He was a transfer student from the Ukraine. He was a year older, but they took most of the same classes, because a lot of Sheva’s initial credits wouldn’t transfer. Ricky taught him Portuguese in return for help with European History and sometimes mathematics. He had resisted the initial attraction to Sheva, but after a few months he could deny it no longer. They had been dating eight months now. He couldn’t bring himself to break Cristiano’s heart. He knew the Portuguese boy was still in love with him, and he would be lying if he said a large part of his heart didn’t still belong to him. He hadn’t told Sheva that he loved him, and he made it clear to him that they would not be making love any time soon. Still, he had definite feelings for him. He cared for him, and the older boy made him feel great when they were together.

“I just… don’t know how to tell him without hurting him.”

Sheva caressed his cheek. “Okay, sweetie. Whatever makes you feel better.”

Ricky smiled sadly. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Of course.” Sheva slid his fingers into Ricky’s thick black hair. “Maybe the interruption was what we needed to tell us we should get back to practicing my Portuguese, and our English.”

 

 **From Ricky:** Studying my English right now. Sorry.

Cristiano sighed unhappily. He was sure Ricky would want to talk to him. He climbed off the couch. He dropped his phone onto it, and went to the closet to change his clothes. He was feeling down, and nothing could bring him up besides a long run. He traded in his slacks and button down shirt for a pair of running shorts, and a t-shirt bearing the Portugal NT logo. Ten minutes later, he was jogging through the trails around campus.

 

Mesut only got into the university, because he practically killed himself during high school to receive exemplary marks on all of his exams. He graduated at the top of his class despite his upbringing. He had been raised by a single mother who had given birth to him when she was far too young. She struggled to work multiple jobs to take care of him, but they still barely had enough money to put food on the table. When it came to college, he knew a scholarship was his only chance to pay for university.

He brought all of his belongings on his back in an old backpack when he walked from his home in Getafe to the university eighteen kilometers away in Madrid. His mother had tried to give up some of her food money for bus fare, but he refused to take it. He had always refused to take his mother’s money. High school had monopolized his time, but he had managed to take a job at the local library shelving books a couple of nights a week. It helped pay for his things while he was there, and he promised to send her anything he could as soon as he could find a job.

He slinked out of the dormitory and made his way across campus to the large university library. He had spoken to the library director over the phone, and he was hopeful seeing the man in person would secure him a part-time job. He also hoped that the library would be mostly empty since classes hadn’t yet begun.

He pulled open the heavy doors, and stepped inside the cool library. He breathed deeply, comforted by the familiar smell that lingered in all libraries home to ancient books. The university’s library was much larger than the one back home, but seemed familiar nonetheless. Mesut had felt at home in the library back home. He enjoyed the solitude of taking carts stacked with books to the farthest corners of the library to put them in their proper places on the shelves. He hoped and prayed he could find the same in this library.

Once inside, he walked through an entryway of sorts with some special books on display in large glass cases. He made a mental note to check out the displays later, but kept walking for now. He soon came upon the front desk for which he had been searching. Rather than finding the library’s director, as he had hoped, he found two librarians doing nothing that had anything to do with books.

Two young blond boys who appeared to be near Mesut’s age stood behind the desk with their arms wrapped around one another. One boy, the thinner of the two, had his hands in the other boy’s hair. His partner’s hands gripped his narrow hips. A deep red heat crept up his throat and settled on his cheeks as he watched their mouths moving in sync. When he saw the thinner blonde’s tongue dart into the other mouth, he forced his eyes away.

“Marco! Mario! How many times have I told you? No making out in front of the customers!”

Mesut’s eyes flicked up when he heard a gruff voice shouting German. His eyes landed on the man who must have been the library director. He thought he had sounded German on the phone, but he spoke only English during their conversation. Mesut had put the thought off, considering it wishful thinking.

The blond boys jumped away from each other and muttered apologies – first to their boss, secondly to Mesut.

“It’s okay,” Mesut told them in German. Three sets of eyes widened and stared back at him.

The director spoke. “You speak German! How nice? It is rare to hear the language of my home country spoken here. Where are you from?”

“Gelsenkirchen,” Mesut replied. “But I moved to Getafe a few years ago with my mother.”

“You’re the boy I spoke with on the phone!”

A smile spread over Mesut’s face. “Yes, that was me, sir.”

“Call me, Jurgen.” The director, Jurgen, waved him over. “Come to my office, so we can talk. Mario, go put books on shelves and keep your tongue out of Marco’s mouth until you’re on break.”

Mesut’s cheeks turned pink when Jurgen spoke so openly about the other two boys kissing. He passed them with his eyes to the floor. Jurgen led him into a large office with a giant desk surrounding by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with books.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk as he took a seat behind his desk. “You’ll have to forgive my son and his boyfriend. They are young and in love.” He chuckled and shook his head.

Mesut nodded, but said nothing. He wondered which of the boys belonged to the boss. He guessed Mario by the way he spoke to him.

 

“I hate when your dad talks about us making out,” Marco said, laughing. “He’s so weird.”

Mario smacked his boyfriend’s chest. “He is not weird. He’s just different than most dads. Be glad he’s not a jerk like your dad.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “True. I’m so glad Mom divorced him and moved here to get away from him.”

“Me too. I would miss you if you hadn’t come.” Mario leaned in to kiss him, but Marco pulled away.

“Nuh-uh! You heard your dad. Go do the shelving!”

Mario planted his hands on his hips and glared at his boyfriend. “He’s back there with Big Eyes! He won’t know!”

“Aww, don’t make fun of the new kid.” Marco scolded him, but still chuckled a little at the way he referred to the kid.

“What? He has huge eyes. Did you see them?”

“I thought he was kinda cute.”

Mario’s mouth opened into a wide “O” and he covered it with his right hand. “I feel so betrayed right now! Cuter than me? You better say no, if you know what’s good for you, Marco Reus!”

Marco laughed so hard his upper body shook. “Nobody is cuter than you.”

Mario grinned. “I know,” he said and then stole a quick kiss before he skittered off to do as his father told him.

 

“I love my boy, but he’s a terrible shelver,” Jurgen admitted with a laugh.

Mesut let a small smile peek out, but he did not laugh along. He feared that could be misconstrued as rudeness. He didn’t need one rude slip-up wrecking his chances when he felt he was so close to getting the job.

“I would like to move him to the front desk permanently if you can take over as a shelver…”

Mesut’s tiny smile suddenly transformed into a wide grin. “I will! I mean, I can! I would love that!”

Jurgen laughed again. “I thought you might. How soon can you start?”

“Um…” Mesut glanced down at his lap. “Right now.”

“My kind of new hire! Let’s get you out there. I’ll have Marco train you. Like I said, my boy is terrible with the shelving. He’s easily distracted, you see. He starts daydreaming and Bronte gets shelved beside Tolkien!” He shook his head and carried on laughing.

Mesut was surprised by the way his boss spoke to him. He talked with him like he was an old friend of the family, not a new hire. Mesut was sure he would love his new job – even if the boss’ son and his boyfriend embarrassed him from time to time.

 

“Sorry about earlier,” Marco said to Mesut. The two were seated side by side with two carts of books in front of them. Mesut was in charge of putting some adult fiction books in alphabetical order by their author’s last names while Marco took the more daunting task of ordering the non-fiction books by their call numbers.

Mesut was stuck on a novel written by three authors. He held the book in his hand, wondering which author’s name he was supposed to use. He was happy for the interruption when Marco spoke to him. “What do you mean?”

Marco smirked. “When you walked in to see me kissing my boyfriend.”

Mesut’s cheeks adopted the same rosy tint they had earlier. He looked away from Marco, back to the confusing book. “Oh, it’s… uh, it’s okay.”

“You’re not a homophobe, are you, Mesut?”

Mesut’s head whipped up. His eyes were wide; his mouth ajar. “Wh – what? No! Of course not.”

Marco smirked again. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. You’re gay too, huh?”

Mesut turned away again. “How could you tell?”

Marco shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the books in front of him. “Just a hunch, I guess. Probably has something to do with the way you blush every time I bring up the kissing.”

Mesut was mortified. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be. You got a boyfriend?” Marco worked while he spoke. He nearly had his load of books done. He would have to help Mesut before they could take the books to the shelves.

“Uh… no. I had one, but he, uh… he moved away to England to go to school in London.”

“Oh, really? I’ve always wanted to visit London. What’s his name?”

“Um, Esteban…” Mesut felt awkward talking about his ex. He did not like to talk about himself at all, but it seemed to be a requirement with his new coworker. He wondered if all the boys on this campus were so open. If they were, he was going to have a big problem making friends.

“I’m finished,” Marco announced, startling Mesut.

He barely had anything done on his cart. He had thought he was quite a proficient shelver, but the library in Getafe was much smaller. He doubted they had even one quarter of the books in this library. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t seen books there written by multiple authors. He was still stumped by that.

Marco looked over when Mesut didn’t respond. “That book gets shelved by the word on the side,” he offered.

“Huh?” Mesut turned the book to look at its spine. There was a tiny label near the bottom, bearing the word, “morte.” “Sorry, I didn’t see that.”

“It’s okay. I hate those books. I’m the one that thought up the labels. Otherwise, it’s a pain in the ass shelving those things. There are quite a few short story collections like that. That one is a murder mystery thing. There’s an ‘amor’ one too. When in doubt, check the spine. If you’re still in doubt, leave it on a cart up here, and I’ll do it. You’ve done this job before, right?”

Mesut felt ashamed of himself. “Yes, I’m sorry. I just…”

Mesut stopped speaking when he felt Marco’s hand on his shoulder. “Hey, man. Don’t worry about it, okay? I worked at a library in Germany too. It was totally different than this. You’ll do just fine, trust me. My boyfriend is horrible at his job, and we still do okay around here.”

“He’s the boss’s son,” Mesut blurted. He bit his lip immediately. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean that.”

Marco laughed loudly. His laughter echoed around the empty library. “Dude, Jurgen says the same thing all the time. If Mario wasn’t his son, he would have fired him a long time ago.” Mesut grinned, but he said nothing more. Marco took the “morte” book from him. “Come on. Let’s leave those here, and get these on the shelves. This is just Dewey decimal stuff. There might be a lot more of it, but you know how to do this, right?”

Mesut nodded, and followed Marco to the non-fiction stacks. The boy might be way too open about his personal life, but Mesut liked him. Maybe they could be friends… No, that was a stupid thought. Mesut would never have any friends here.

 

Cristiano ran to seek solitude. He wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, running off stress was a popular pastime amongst college students. Everyone on campus seemed to be jogging away their worries before classes begun. Cristiano cut his run short and returned to his room. He took a quick shower and changed into something casual, but pristine: light purple button down top, brand new dark wash slim-fit jeans, and Gucci tennis shoes. He put enough product in his hair to glue it in place, grabbed his phone and wallet, and walked out.

He had no idea where he would end up. He just walked around campus. He scowled at the frat houses full of bigot assholes, and walked quickly past them. He felt much more comfortable walking amongst the educational buildings and administration. He walked through the student’s center. It was nice. He enjoyed the restaurants there, the gift shop where he bought things for his mother, and the little store that sold his moisturizer after he lodged a complaint his first year. None of it was a comfort at the moment, however. He walked out through the back exit. The rear of the student’s center faced the library. Cristiano hadn’t spent much time there. He knew most students didn’t – especially before classes had begun. It was just the place to find some solitude.

When he walked through the front doors, he was greeted by the familiar blond German at the desk. Mario was adorable, but not very bright. Cristiano greeted him with a smile, but nothing more as he walked past the desk. He checked the directory in the center of the room. It had a full map. The library was massive. The bottom floor was mostly tables and desks to be used for studying, and computers for the poor kids who could not afford laptops. The only books on this floor were non-fiction – the ones you were most likely to use for study purposes. Apparently university students are supposed to do quite a lot of that. Who knew?

Cristiano decided to browse around. He liked history quite a bit. Maybe he could find a book about that, and hide in the library for a few hours.

Cristiano was lost in an aisle filled with books about knitting and crafts when he heard voices. He jumped, startled by the sound. The voices were speaking German, so he had no idea what they were saying. Knowing those two Germans, they were talking dirty to each other, and coming to use the vacant aisle as a make-out place. Cristiano tried to duck out before they could see him, but the thinner blond stepped into the aisle before he could get away.

“Oh!” Marco was just as startled to find Cristiano standing there as Cristiano was to be caught. “Sorry if I startled you,” Marco spoke perfect Spanish. “Can I help you find something?”

Cristiano opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. He expected to see the bubble-headed German from the desk round the corner after Marco, but a tiny thing with black hair and gigantic eyes turned the corner pushing a cart of books that looked nearly bigger than him.

The boy had his eyes on the cart, maneuvering it into the aisle. “Marco, who are you talking to?” he asked. His eyes flicked up, and he gasped at the sight of Cristiano. He apologized in Spanish, and his eyes shot down again.

Cristiano shook his head. “I… Sorry. Excuse me.” Cristiano backed out of the aisle and walked through another to get away from them. There was something about that small German. Those huge eyes. Cristiano shivered. Those eyes would haunt him. Who was that kid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really love to know what you think, so please comment!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know this was sort of just introductions, but I hope you all enjoyed it!! Kudos and/or comments are very welcome and loved!! <3


End file.
